- George Eliot, The Mill on the Floss

Hadrian's words hung in the air; everyone was stiff and not even daring to comment on his words. Hadrian turned his gaze from Utteridge to Rhea, seeing her embarrassed flush.

"I'm sorry, my lord. Did we have the pleasure of making your acquaintance?" Hadrian looked up to see a young blonde man atop his horse.

Hadrian eyed the young man.

He had been out in his morning ride when he saw Rhea. All he could think of was her and didn't really look anywhere else. It was only when her and her companion went over to see the young men, with no chaperone.

He had seen the young blonde talking to his fiancé and couldn't think anything but throttling the man. Damn Rhea and her ability to make him feel this way.

"No." He said coolly. Rhea flushed again.

"Your Grace," a young lady, Lady Edmond, he believed, interrupted him. "I didn't know you were acquainted with Lady Hemmingway."

The way she said Rhea's title; made Rhea wince.

"My lady, I can assure you, we are more than just friends. Lady Hemmingway is my future wife."

"That is preposterous!" the blonde stuttered.

"Are you deliberately offending my lady?" he had put emphasis on 'my', Lord Utteridge noted.

Obviously the Duke had feelings for the beautiful Lady Hemmingway, other than mutual. Lord Utteridge held in a smirk.

"Is it true, my lady?" Lord Ashwin turned to Rhea.

Rhea was looking down, her cheeks a tinge pale. "I'm afraid yes, my lord." Rhea murmured.

Hadrian's fists clenched. 'I'm afraid'? Did she regret the arrangement made? Of course, Hadrian thought darkly, she was doing so only out of duty.

Damn her.

"Actually, I was to meet with you this afternoon, Lady Hemmingway." Hadrian cut in smoothly. Lady Edmond raised a brow. "I wouldn't mind taking you home. Where is your chaperone?" he asked suspiciously.

"Not far, Your Grace." She said his name with soft contempt. Hadrian held his wince. "I would never allow myself out of my home without one."

Hadrian nodded and ignored her tone of voice.

"Good. We'll be traveling to your holdings now." Hadrian said; a sign of arrogance around him. This woman would be his wife soon, although unwilling; she was his.

"I'm sorry, my lord, but I will not go with you. I've made plans and promises that I must keep-"

The young lady interrupted, "Oh, please." She turned to Hadrian. "I will release her from her promise to accompany you, Your Grace."

Hadrian smiled, "Thank you. Now, what were you saying, my lady?" Hadrian turned to address Lady Hemmingway.

"B-but my lord, I've - it's reprehensible to just -" Rhea looked to be in despair. Hadrian saved her from further embarrassment.

"Would it be so dreadful to have a ride with me, my lady?" Hadrian asked softly. Rhea's eyes widened at the softened tone.

"Of course not, I just-" she paused; everyone watched the discussion with interest. Even Lord Ashwin seemed to be held with curiosity. "Alright, I will accompany you."

"My lady, if it is not your will, then you must-"

"It is her will." Hadrian put in. He had interrupted Lord Ashwin and Lord Ashwin flushed with anger. "She said so herself."

"It's quite alright, my lord. I will see you at the soiree." She promised. Lord Ashwin nodded stiffly and turned to his friend.

"Good bye, Lady Hemmingway. T'was a pleasure making your acquaintance." Lady Hemmingway smiled at Lord Utteridge.

"T'was the same for me! Good day." She waved and allowed herself to be lead by the duke.

"I see you've been making lost promises, my lady." Rhea looked away. Hadrian had been angry at the way Lord Ashwin and his bride-to-be addressed each other. Softly, smiles . . . intimately. As if they had some interest in common.

As if they had more . . .

Hadrian clenched the reins in his hands and went back to the question he asked Rhea. "Your Grace, it is not your concern-"

"Oh but it is, my dear. I am soon to be your husband." Hadrian intervened. "I would not allow you trifling with that young fool."

"And you are not a fool yourself, my lord?" Rhea asked innocently.

"You wish to speak of my past?" Hadrian asked coldly. "I must warn you, it is not pleasant."

"And I assure you, my lord. I know it well." Rhea imitated his tone. "I know of your trifling, they are quite wide-spread."

"Is that so?" Hadrian asked softly. He stopped in front of her carriage. He got off of his horse and assisted Rhea with hers. She clenched her hands on his arms and for a moment; thought about how muscular and masculine they were.

His hands went about her waist and helped her descend. She looked down into his eyes. Those dark embers locked her to him. They were passionate and angry.

Her feet had touched the floor, but her heart was soaring. What was the matter with her? She looked at Hadrian and noticed he was looking at her intensely.

But it was unfamiliar, the gaze of his. His eyes seemed to be growing darker . . .

Her hands were still on his arms and his at her waist. He pulled her forward and then pushed her back.

"I suggest," he said thickly, his eyes never leaving her face. "You get into the carriage. We wouldn't want to pose a scene now, would we?"

It took a moment for Rhea to understand the said words then she nodded jerkily. She hadn't realized where they had been; she climbed into the carriage and sat down with a sigh of relief. That is, until the Devil himself seated himself in front of her.

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